Living in the Past
by Delleve
Summary: Remus Lupin wants to forget the present. He wants the past back when he had all of his friends and Voldemort was not at power. What happens when he gets his wish? Will he ever want to come back?
1. The Loss of a Friend

Author's Notes: This only has three chapters on it so far. If it will ever get past that amount, I don't know. Reviews are very much appreciated and always (unless they're evil flames or make no sense) put a smile on my face. I promise the next chapter will be longer.  
  
Chapter One  
The Loss of a Friend  
  
Remus Lupin sat The Daily Prophet down on the table with a deep sigh. The Ministry had finally wizened up and realized that Voldemort was very much alive again and was back at full power.  
  
Lucius Malfoy and the rest of the Death Eaters that had been captured had broken out of Azkaban. Not that he had been expecting any different. Without dementors putting the Death Eaters in Azkaban was just as safe and secure as putting them in a playpen.  
  
Headquarters was horrible without having Sirius there. Kreacher was still hobbling around, muttering insults, and worshipping the crazed portrait of Mrs. Black. Mundungus was still trying to smuggle in stolen cauldrons and brooms. Molly was still cooking and frowning upon Fred and George whenever they popped in to show off their new products. Everyone was still there. Except Sirius.  
  
Sirius wasn't there to make jokes about Kreacher. He wasn't there to help me pull the curtains closed over the portrait of Mrs. Black whenever someone made the mistake of ringing the doorbell. He wasn't there to remember James with or to watch over Harry and help him with his problems. He wasn't there. He would never be there again.  
  
I still half expect him to walk through the door, smile, give a joke about why he was late for dinner, eat, and then make more jokes and give advice. I think everyone thinks that. Especially Harry. Sirius' death hit him especially hard. It was his last parent figure. He loved Sirius like a brother, a best friend, and a dad.  
  
I try to fill Sirius' shoes. I try to stay positive and live life normally. I try to be a father figure to Harry. I can't do it. I'll never be able to do it. Nobody will ever be able to do it. Except Sirius.  
  
Everyone is even more persuaded to stop Voldemort now. That's the only good thing that's come from Sirius' death.  
  
He was never really cleared. The search for him has stopped, the Ministry has made an announcement that he's innocent but he still isn't really cleared. People still say that he's guilty and evil. Some people still refuse to believe he's innocent. Nobody really cares that he's passed on except for members of the Order. Most people's only memories of him are of murder and betrayal.  
  
I guess he's happier now. I don't really know. Nobody knows. At least wherever he is he won't have to stay locked up anymore. He won't have to hide anymore. He's free now. Nobody can hurt him. Maybe he's even with Lily and James.  
  
I wish I was with them. I have nobody now. Sirius is dead. James is dead. Peter is as good as dead. I have no one, except Harry and the Order.  
  
It isn't fair. Sirius had to experience pain his whole life. His childhood was horrible. His adult life was horrible. He only had a good ten years of happiness, during school and the few years after it, before James and Lily died. It isn't fair. But who said life was fair? I know for a fact that fairness is the last thing life possesses. 


	2. Chapter Two: The Painful Photograph

Author's Notes: I am HTML challenged so that's why the centering and italics aren't working and are all wacky. Help! Please!  
  
Chapter Two  
The Painful Photograph  
  
"Lupin, did you ever get to look at this?" Mad-Eye asked gruffly as he held out a rough hand that contained a bent and tattered photograph.  
  
I came closer to Mad-Eye and squinted at the picture. "No," I said still observing it. "I've never seen it before."  
  
"Then look at it. It'll bring back old memories." He handed it to me and I took it gently. It was partially faded but you could still make out everything fine. Huddled in the photograph were around fifteen smiling people. Some people were partially obscured but they would be able to move to the front, it was a wizardring photograph after all.  
  
I was looking at all of my old friends smiling faces. I was looking at the first members of the Order of the Phoenix.  
  
Some were raising their glasses, others waving. Everyone was so happy and had no idea of the horrible fate that would come to most of them. It was haunting having to see their happy faces then remember that most of them would never be able to smile again.  
  
There I was. Waving in the front row next to Emmeline Vance. She was one of the few that had lived. I glanced over at a nearby mirror. I look somewhat the same. My hair hadn't started graying yet in the picture but it was definitely me.  
  
So many old smiling faces, I thought as I looked at the first row. There was Mad-Eye looking the same as ever except his entire nose was still intact and he didn't look quite as grizzly. Dumbledore, who also looked the same and was smiling in his knowing way and raising his glass. Marlene Mckinnon, who had been one of Lily's friends until the death eaters took out her whole family. The Longbottoms, their pleasantly round faces smiling.  
  
"Horrible," I murmured. Having to be tortured for information that they didn't have until they went insane. Poor Neville. He has the ability to be great but he doesn't have any confidence in himself. I remember Neville well from when I taught. He was a slightly bumbling child but a very good- natured one with an amount of talent in him, just no self-confidence at all.  
  
Of course, having parents but not really having them could do that to you. Nobody should have to have their parents look at you blankly when you tell them that you're their son. You shouldn't have to see you're parents half- dead and having no sense of thought or memories. There was Benjy Fenwick, smiling very widely, his good looks shining. I remember seeing him in tiny bits and pieces after the third major battle in the First War. Not even all of his body was found. His good looks destroyed, his body mangled. It was sickening how another human being could do that to someone else.  
  
"Move over," I said quietly, waving my hand in the air. The people in the second row moved forward as the people in the front moved back. Edgar Bones, another order member who's whole family had been taken out. Sturgis Podmore, who was killed last year. Caradoc Dearborn who disappeared and was never found. Hagrid, he still looked the same, though his matted beard was a little shorter perhaps. Elphias Doge and the Prewettes. Fabian and Gideon Prewette fought wonderfully. They were probably the best fighters in the whole order. It took five death eaters to kill them.  
  
All of the people in the second row now lay dead except for Hagrid. Six of my past acquaintances were now dead. Having to look at their cheery faces and then remember them lying on the ground with their eyes open and glossy, moving less than a rock, some of their bodies mangled and their flesh cool as ice. I gave a deep shudder and beckoned the next row forward.  
  
This row hurt badly. It pierced me with a red-hot poker then dunked me in a freezing cold lake. A rush of memories came flooding back. Their faces flashed in my mind, wearing every expression imaginable. Their voices said things I faintly remembered them saying. Some things were funny, while others were chilling.  
  
i"That was brilliant, Padfoot, jinxing Snivellus so he couldn't stop walking like a penguin!"  
  
"STOP IT! I said to stop! They're just first years! What did they ever do to you, Potter?"  
  
"We better go and help Peter, James. He's been jinxed to never stop doing the can-can."  
  
"Lily, I'm so sorry to tell you this but I guess I best get it over with. I'm really sorry Lil. M-Marlene's been killed by death eaters. They got her whole family. I know she was your best friend and I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, honey."i  
  
I closed my eyes with all my might. Make it stop, I thought to myself. Just make it stop. With every memory I felt myself being prodded with the poker again.  
  
I kept my eyes closed and turned away from the picture and let it fall to the floor. The flashes of memories and voices stopped. I opened my eyes and took a deep breath then picked up the photograph again.  
  
Staring up at me, wearing their cheery expressions were James, Lily, and Sirius, my best friends who were now dead. I couldn't look them in the eye. It hurt too much. I fixed my gaze on one of the glasses that was being raised instead. James whose hair was untidy and rumpled like always, Lily, her emerald green eyes twinkling with her happiness and smile. Sirius, with his hair short and wearing his carefree girl magnet smile.  
  
I winced with the pain the photo brought me.  
  
There was Peter in-between Lily and James. His watery eyes were filled with fear even though he didn't have a reason to be afraid at the time. Now it made sense why his eyes were always filled with fear. He was a traitor. He was the reason why two of my best friends now were dead. He also led to the death of Sirius. If it weren't for him going back to Voldemort and bringing him back, Sirius would still be alive. If Voldemort had never came back to power Bellatrix wouldn't have gotten out of Azkaban. We wouldn't have had to use Grimmauld Place as headquarters and Sirius would have never had to meet Kreacher again, never would have had to step back in that house ever again. It all led back to Peter.  
  
"Scum," I muttered as I went to find Mad-Eye and return the photograph.  
  
"Where'd Mad-Eye go off to?" I asked Tonks. Today she was sporting her usual short, spiky bubblegum pink hair.  
  
"He left for home. He said something about his eye sticking again and that he should best go home to give it a thorough cleaning. You think he could keep his unusual little hygiene habits to himself."  
  
So I'd have to keep the photo until he decided to pay another visit to headquarters, which would probably be tomorrow. I tucked the photograph into my pocket and made sure to remember not to sit down anywhere until I took the photo out. I didn't want to damage the photo further.  
  
"I think I'm going to turn in. Goodnight, everyone," I said as I made my way to the stairs.  
  
On the way I stopped at Harry and gave him a smile. "Sleep well. Remember to keep your door locked. I forgot last night and Kreacher came in. It isn't a very nice awakening to find his mad eyes staring at you."  
  
I try to imitate Sirius's humor but I can't do it well at all. I'm not going to try anymore. I think it just makes things worse.  
  
Harry gave me a weak, forced smile. "I know, and I do. Ron told me last year. I wish we could just get rid of the stupid house-elf."  
  
I just nodded and walked up the creaky old stairs, past the disturbing house-elf heads, and to my temporary bedroom. I pulled the tattered photograph out of my pocket and looked at it one last time before I put it in one of the drawers. I wasn't going to look at it again until I had to give it back to Mad-Eye. I didn't want to look at it again.  
  
Author's Notes: I have no clue how to figure out the HTML commands on this thing. I've tried I /I for italics and it's supposed to be the correct thing but it isn't working! Help. Please. Am I doing it right? 


	3. Hassels With a Houseelf

Chapter Three

Hassles With a House-elf

        "Is Mad-Eye here?" I asked as I made my way into the dining room for breakfast.  I had put the photograph into my pants' pocket without even glancing at it.

There was only the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione in the dim breakfast room.  Everyone else had left last night.  Nobody was talking as they ate.  Every now and then someone would heave a sigh before they took a bite.  The scene sent chills down my spine.

            "Hmm?" Molly said distractedly.  She had one hand on her cheek, and an elbow on the table.  Last year, whenever someone had their elbows on the table, Molly would tell them off.  She'd say that it was horrid manners and demand them to take their elbow off immediately like a civilized person.  Now she didn't care.  Percy had disowned them and Sirius was gone.  It was as simple as that.

            "Mad-Eye, is he here?"     

            "No," Hermione said as she peeled an orange distractedly.  "He left last night."

            "Does anyone know when he'll be back?"

            "No," Ron said.  "I dunno when he'll be black."

            Everyone looked up quickly, staring at Ron like he had just said a disgusting swearword.  Black ... Sirius.  At that point Kreacher came in, muttering to himself as usual.

            "How dare the blood traitor brat besmirch the name of Black!  And the werewolf, stinking ups the house of my mistress with his half-human filth!  Oh, how much disgrace my mistress would have in me.  Oh, the shame."

            "Get out of here and go to the attic, Kreacher!" Harry suddenly yelled, as he sprang from his chair, causing everyone to jump.  Everyone turned his or her gaze from the mad house-elf to Harry.

            "Harry," Hermione said tentatively.  "Remember what Dumbledore said about Kreacher.  It will only make things become worse if you yell at him.  Kreacher's like that because of wizards, Harry.  Just try to be nice to him."

            "It's his fault Sirius is dead!" Harry yelled, smacking his fist against the table.  "I'm not going to be all buddy-buddy with him!  He killed Sirius, Hermione!  It's his fault he's dead and you expect me to be nice to him and treat him like a friend?  I don't think so!"  

            "I didn't mean it like that ..." Hermione began.

            "_He's_ the filth he keeps going on about!  The only thing he deserves is to have his head up on a plaque like the rest of his ancestors!  He deserves to be dead!"

            "Harry, calm down!" I said sternly.  "Yes, it is mostly Kreacher's fault that Sirius is dead, but really, you need to control yourself.  You're not the only one who is upset about Sirius's death, believe me!"

            Harry picked up his chair from the floor and sat back down, breathing rapidly; the angry gleam in his eye had vanished. "Sorry," Harry said.  "It just isn't fair that..."  He stopped in mid-sentence and put his head in his arms. 

            "Kreacher does not have to take orders from you," Kreacher wheezed.  "You are not a Black, thank mistress.  The Black's name is already burdened enough with the murderer in it.  Thank mistress he is dead."

            "Shut up, Kreacher!" I found myself yelling as I bolted from my chair.

            "Nor does Kreacher have to take orders from the werewolf.  Kreacher does not have to take orders from none of yous.  None of yous are family of mistress."

            "Kreacher..." I began, determined to keep my voice calm and to speak rationally but unfortunately this attempt was unsuccessful.  The house-elf had pushed me too far.  I hardly had ever yelled but now I was seething.   I hadn't been this angry since Umbridge started her horrible anti-werewolf legislation, making it impossible for me to get a job.

            "Kreacher, I forbid you to ever speak ill of Sirius again.  If you do, then I will kill you.  Do you understand me?  Kill you."

            "You are not..." Kreacher began to wheeze.

            "It doesn't matter that I'm not a Black.  That doesn't stop me from killing you."

            For the first time Kreacher looked intimidated, even afraid.  He scowled at me then left the room, muttering insults under his breath.

            "Well, can someone pass me the butter?" I asked as I sat back down, trying to act like nothing had happened.  Everyone's mouths were hanging open, shell-shocked at my harsh threat, in disbelief that I had meant it, but I did.  I meant it with every part of me.


End file.
